"Still insufficient," Druko repeated his opinion. "This long road is not over yet. From the respect I have for our father, I must acknowledge that he cleaned up the mess of the city, but not the heads of those who always want to exploit the weaknesses of all government goodwill. Revitalizing the economy, diplomacy, the social fields of the community... all of this requires people's cooperation to leverage the progress of our society as a whole. But the people insist on burying themselves in the sands and acting like the old worms of ancient times."

The golden gaze penetrated the interior of his brother's soul and, in a sudden act, he pointed back to his own home.

"What if it was Xarcondra right there, huh, Ruzorh?!" Druko raised his indignation a little more by touching his partner's vulnerability. "What if it was your daughter being chased by two rapists?! What then?! Would you give the candy to the kids, naive boy?!"

Ruzorh was instantly irritated by the questions and the concept Druko punched in his head, not thinking long before pushing his brother into an act of interruption.

"Don't talk about my daughter!" As much as he knew Druko was right, Ruzorh was too proud to admit, and in the absence of knowing what to say, he let his muscles speak for himself.

Recovering his balance with his feet, and despite the push he suffered, the younger brother knew that he had managed to weaken the perspective of his fellow brother.

Without harboring a grudge, Druko's golden gaze gave his last severe look in the eyes of the angry older brother, before making his return into the house.

He knew very well that it was only a matter of time before his provocations reached Ruzorh's intellect, and made him aware of the reality that Verozys experienced in its contradictory glory days. He should wait for his brother to cool down, and notice that one of the people he loved most could be the target of the disease that the verozean society cultivated.

Now lonely, the older brother watched Druko leave the nightly conversation they used to have from time to time, crushing his fingers in his fists to cool his latent anger.

His steps guided him back to his home, but now the usual scorn and raised head were gone.

Druko had warned him of something he hadn’t realized yet and that stung his pride.

Ruzorh remembered his daughter’s face and realized that, as harsh as Druko could be, his predictions held some truth to them.

The night was chilling, and Ruzorh's mockery about his idealized society ceased to exist.